


You Should Talk

by CassLikesFic



Series: Conversations [4]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Resolved Sexual Tension, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sexual Tension, morons to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:55:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22851286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassLikesFic/pseuds/CassLikesFic
Summary: “Before we go further.” Geralt said quietly, feeding twigs to the fire. “We need to talk.”“Ah, right.” Jaskier nodded and came to sit by the fire, cross legged on the stone. “What is it you’re telling me you’ll be leaving to hunt then, while I pretend I will obediently be staying behind before following? Drowners? Knackers? Another pack of Barghasts?”“Not about that.” The fire was built up to his satisfaction. Geralt looked at Jaskier steadily, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “We need to talk about sex.”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Conversations [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1631728
Comments: 215
Kudos: 1139





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Conversations series continues! Thank you to everyone for your wonderful comments!
> 
> [Come find me on tumblr!](https://poisonousbuttercup.tumblr.com/)

Geralt woke Jaskier up with a hand on his shoulder and the usual rough shake.

“Stretch your legs. Eat something.” He said, pressing a small bag with food into the bard’s hands. It was late afternoon, and the sun was getting low. They’d ridden for most of the day in companionable, easy silence. Jaskier dozed off and on leaning against Geralt, sometimes humming quietly or singing snatches of songs under his breath. They’d stopped when necessary but the bard’s usual talent for dawdling was missing.

The day had been clear with a lack of clouds that meant a colder night. They would need to find camp somewhere that wasn’t in the open. Geralt had been unwilling to push Roach to get to the next town sooner, especially when she was carrying two riders. Inns could wait.

A safe place to sleep and a fire could not.

The cave Geralt found was unoccupied, and clean for the most part. There was a faint scent of old smoke, cooked food. From the remains of the dead firepit, it had been used within the last two weeks by travelers in a similar situation. Towards the back of the cave was a small pool with a sandy bottom. The water wasn’t deep enough to have anything lurking. Geralt touched a finger to the water, touched it to his tongue. Clear, fresh, clean. A small blessing.

Jaskier helped unpack and set up the camp. He left and returned with armfuls of firewood, kindling. He lingered over the contents of his pack, the line between his brows deepening as he set a small tin next to the bedrolls. 

“Before we go further.” Geralt said quietly, feeding twigs to the fire. “We need to talk.”

“Ah, right.” Jaskier nodded and came to sit by the fire, cross legged on the stone. “What is it you’re telling me you’ll be leaving to hunt then, while I pretend I will obediently be staying behind before following? Drowners? Knackers? Another pack of Barghasts?” 

“Not about that.” The fire was built up to his satisfaction. Geralt looked at Jaskier steadily, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “We need to talk about sex.”

Jaskier colored and cleared his throat, that line of humming tension back in his body as he fiddled with the kindling. Geralt watched him strip the twigs, patient and amused.

“...what. Hm. Sex. Right. What exactly were you wanting to talk about?”

“What we both like.” He continued softly, carefully. “What you don’t like, what I won’t do. How this changes things between us.”

“It doesn’t have to-”

“I want it to change things between us.” Geralt held Jaskier’s gaze for a long moment. “Which means we need to talk about what changes.” Geralt carefully took the bundle of twigs Jaskier was worrying at out of his hands and set it aside.

“...ah. So...not just a. Friendly hand occasionally on the road, then.”

“I’d prefer more than that.” Geralt said simply, letting his gaze move over Jaskier’s body.

“So would I.” Jaskier wet his lips, then exhaled softly. “...do Witchers... _ do _ sex?”

“Yes.” 

“...with men.”

“Yes, with men.”

“And you-”

“Jaskier, I’m older than you. I have had sex with men. I know how I like having sex with men. I’ve had  _ enough _ sex with men to know that little tin you tried to sneak next to the bedroll will not work for what I want to do with you.” Geralt huffed a sigh, then met Jaskier’s eyes again steadily. “Trust me when I say that I want to share those things with  _ you _ , and I want us both to enjoy them. Thoroughly. I don’t want to waste the night dragging the answers from your mouth one word at a damn time.” He huffed irritably, and tugged the bard between his knees, resting Jaskier’s back against his chest.

“Oh.”

“Mm.”

Jaskier went quiet. Watched the fire.

“I’ve never seen you want anybody.”

“I’m more discreet than you are.”

“Hm.”

“When we’re together, I want you to come to me first.” Geralt ran his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. “If you want something you think I can’t give you, you tell me first. Not that you  think  I don’t want to give you, or that you’re afraid to ask for.”

“Mm.”

“I’m not possessive. But I’ve had enough of you looking elsewhere because you’re afraid to look at me.”

“I don’t want this to be just another wound you have to care for.” Jaskier responded at last.

“It won’t be. It’s something I want. You’re someone I want.”

Jaskier sat breathing quietly for a long time before speaking again. Geralt continued to slowly stroke fingers through his hair. “I like a lot of things.”

“So do I. Perhaps you should tell me some of them.” Jaskier fell silent with no indication he was planning on speaking again. Geralt tightened his fingers, tugging the bard's hair and bringing Jaskier’s head back. “ _ Jaskier _ .” Geralt murmured quietly, voice dropping low.

He had only wanted to focus the bard’s attention. Bring his thoughts back to the conversation they were having. There was a clear answer in Jaskier’s reaction, however. His lids grew heavier, his mouth parting with a soft gasp. “...that’s...one thing I like.” He managed, wetting his lips.

“I’m not cruel.” Geralt said quietly in response. “I don’t take pleasure in hurting others for its own sake.” He trailed a fingertip slowly down the exposed line of Jaskier’s throat, following the flush towards the neck of his shirt.

“You’re not hurting me.” Geralt hummed in response to that.

“Then tell me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can’t talk when your hands are on me.” Jaskier whispered, letting his eyes fall closed. Geralt studied the line of his throat, bared invitingly under his fingertip. How easily Jaskier seemed to yield to the grip.
> 
> “I want you to talk.” Geralt replied quietly, tightening his fingers carefully in Jaskier’s hair and giving it an experimental tug. “I like the sound of your voice. Can you try?”

“I can’t talk when your hands are on me.” Jaskier whispered, letting his eyes fall closed. Geralt studied the line of his throat, bared invitingly under his fingertip. How easily Jaskier seemed to yield to the grip.

“I want you to talk.” Geralt replied quietly, tightening his fingers carefully in Jaskier’s hair and giving it an experimental tug. “I like the sound of your voice. Can you try?”

“ _ Yes- _ ” It fell from Jaskier’s lips in a soft hiss.

“You like this.” Geralt kept his tone soft, careful. “Yielding.”

“Yes.”

“Only one side, or both?”

“...both.” Jaskier admitted with a quiet exhale. “I...hadn’t thought you’d want-”

“I like both.”

“Oh.” Jaskier exhaled softly, opening his eyes and staring ahead at the fire. Geralt traced the edge of his ear with one fingertip, the lightest touch. Enjoyed the shiver he gained in response.

“What are you thinking?”

“...wondering what it’d be like to have you in front of me, holding your hair like this.”

“Mm.”

“Not now though.” Jaskier breathed quietly.

“No, not now. I have you.”

“I don’t like-” Jaskier wet his lips again, letting his eyes fall closed again. “I don’t like cruel words. I don’t mind if you want to tease me for being eager, but don’t...call me names.”

“I’m not cruel. Not even in games.” Geralt said quietly, thinking with mild anger of whoever made that statement necessary. “Good. You’re doing well.” Jaskier shivered with a soft gasp. “...hm.”

“...what-”

“You like praise, Jaskier. I shouldn’t be surprised.” He thought of the way the bard glowed from kind words, the attention and applause of a crowd.

“...I...well.”

“Do you like being told you’re  _ good _ ?” He murmured, letting his voice fall into a low rumble.

“Fuck. Yes.” Jaskier’s voice dropped lower, taking on a rough edge.

“I like that you’re eager, I won’t tease you for that. But I’m not going to fuck you tonight.” Geralt said quietly. “You’re not going to fuck me tonight, either. Not on thin blankets, with whatever salve you’ve decided will do.”

“ _ Please- _ ” Geralt tightened his fingers slightly in Jaskier’s hair and tugged again, interrupting his quiet plea with a soft gasp. When Jaskier quieted, Geralt moved soothing fingers over his scalp in slow circles.

“Tell me more.”

“I want everything.”

“Tell me what you don’t want from me.” Geralt ran his fingers slowly up and down the side of Jaskier’s neck, behind his ear. Down to the spot where throat met shoulder. Back up. “You’re important to me. I’m not going to be careless with you.”

“Tell me what you won’t do, first.” Jaskier wet his lips, settling into the touch. There was still tension in the lines of his body.

“I won’t play at taking you unwillingly. I won’t strike you, or draw blood.” Geralt slowly dragged a knuckle along the line of Jaskier’s jaw. “I won’t be cruel to you, in words or touches. I won’t punish you, or use sex to punish you if I’m angry.” 

“...that’s all very good.” Jaskier responded, tilting his face into the touch, something in him easing. “I don’t want any of that.”

“Good.”

“...don’t tie or threaten my hands.” Jaskier said at last, breathing evening out to something steady and deep. He watched the movements of the flames. “Don’t say you’ll give me to someone else.” Geralt felt the tension in Jaskier’s jaw as his voice grew softer. “...don’t say I’m not good enough for you.” 

“Never.” His response was immediate and firm.

“...don’t-” There was a pause and Jaskier shifted against him with a quiet laugh. “...don’t deny me without giving me a reason. I understand the salve.” He hastened to add. “...but if I want you and I ask for something...tell me why you say no?”

“I will.” Geralt hummed quietly, resuming carding his fingers slowly through Jaskier’s dark hair. “Because it won’t be safe, clean, or comfortable. Because it would hurt you.” Jaskier nodded in response. “Do you know these things from experience?”

“What- no. No, I just...hate the thought. If it was you.” Jaskier let his eyes fall closed. “You’d break my heart if you did any of that.”

“That-” Geralt growled low in Jaskier’s ear, pulling the bard tight against his body. “I will  _ not _ do.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'd like to kiss you now. Do more than kiss you.” Geralt murmured behind Jaskier’s ear, placing a soft kiss on the thin skin there.
> 
> “I must smell horny.” Jaskier laughed softly, letting his head tip back against Geralt’s shoulder. His smile was open and easy, blue eyes bright. “It was a good talk.”
> 
> “It was.” Geralt said simply, moving his fingers slowly up and down Jaskier’s thigh, resting his hand on one bent knee. “And you do.”

They grew quiet together, and easier. Jaskier was a comfortable weight in his arms. The fire was warm and crackling, and the snow had begun to fall outside again. Geralt let his guard down against his senses, enjoying the soft whisper of flakes brushing the trees outside. The scent of dried fruit lingering on Jaskier’s fingertips and mouth. The soft bite of the woodsmoke. The mingled scents of both their skin, lingering in the blankets. Roach’s quiet presence at the mouth of the cave, warm and steady.

"I'd like to kiss you now. Do more than kiss you.” Geralt murmured behind Jaskier’s ear, placing a soft kiss on the thin skin there.

“I must smell horny.” Jaskier laughed softly, letting his head tip back against Geralt’s shoulder. His smile was open and easy, blue eyes bright. “It was a good talk.”

“It was.” Geralt said simply, moving his fingers slowly up and down Jaskier’s thigh, resting his hand on one bent knee. “And you do.”

“Oh. What...does it smell like?” Geralt pressed his face to Jaskier’s neck, inhaling deeply and smiling against his skin.

“It’s not exactly a scent. Your temperature rises. Your skin smells warmer. Your pupils dilate, your heart rate increases. Your breath changes- it’s faster, there’s a small hitch at the top of your inhale. Your lips part slightly and I smell more of what’s on your breath. The scent of your sweat changes. When you’re hard, you shift. The cloth moves, I hear it. Smell the wetness you leave on your smallclothes...” Geralt laughed quietly. “...it’s simpler to say it’s just a smell.” He moved his fingers in slow circles on Jaskier’s knee. Watched how the simple touch combined with his voice produced the effects as he described them. “Like now.”

“Do you- respond to it. Does it affect you at all?” Jaskier asked, his voice quieter.

“I choose when it does. I’m not mindless.”  _ The way human lovers can be _ , he left unsaid.

Jaskier paused at that, and Geralt almost felt the movement of his tongue wetting his lips. “Will you choose that tonight?” 

“When you’ve had your pleasure, yes.” He smiled against the back of Jaskier’s neck, lightly closing his teeth over the skin. Tasted the desire in Jaskier’s sweat, reveled in the inhale and hitch of his breath, the bitten back sound. “If you still want that.”

“I don’t know how to tell you how much.”

“You don’t need to. Come lie down and show me.”

* * *

They took the time to remove their boots, then stretched out under the warmed blankets. It was different than the other times. Lying face to face, with the desire open between them, instead of chest to back. Geralt listened to the sound of Jaskier’s breath, rested a hand on his chest to feel the movement of it. Kissing was different, stretched out next to each other. There was a scant difference between their height, Jaskier’s face close to his own while their legs twined together.

Geralt let his focus narrow to the man in his arms. The quiet sounds, what touches caused breathless gasps, small restless shifts of hips and legs. He licked over the pulse in Jaskier’s throat, thrilled at the sensation of it racing under his mouth. The taste of Jaskier’s sweat on his tongue. Worked his strong fingers into the inviting gap at the collar of Jaskier’s shirt. Ran short nails over the dark hair under the fine cloth.

There was confidence in Jaskier’s hands and mouth there hadn’t been during their earlier kiss. Some of the frantic desperation had eased, though the need behind his touch had not. Jaskier employed the same expertise borne of practice he used with his lute and voice. It was hard to keep his focus solely on the bard’s pleasure when Jaskier seemed to find his pleasure in Geralt’s responses. Deft, lightly calloused fingers sought the back of Geralt’s neck, the tender spot at the bend of his wrist. Strong thumbs stroked behind his ears, and Geralt’s low growl of pleasure was answered with a surprisingly similar sound from the bard.

_ Both sides _ . Jaskier had said, proving the truth of his words when strong fingers twined into his white hair, made a fist, and  _ tugged _ . Geralt was not prepared for the noise that jerked from his mouth. Or the soft, dark chuckle he heard in his ear in response.

“I thought _you_ wanted to yield, Bard.” Geralt bit at Jaskier’s lips, working his thigh between Jaskier legs. He pressed his thigh firmly against the hard outline he found waiting, savored the shifting movement and low sound Jaskier made.

“...couldn’t resist.” Jaskier gasped out, tipping his head back onto the blankets with a groan. He eased his grip on Geralt’s hair, letting his hands settle on his shoulders instead. “I do- I do want-” Jaskier panted against Geralt’s mouth, claiming his lips for another hungry kiss. Geralt slid his own fingers into the bard’s short hair, tugged his face back. Bared his throat. Felt Jaskier grow harder, pressed against his thigh

“I want to hear what you were thinking-” Geralt began.  


“That you’d make a good sound if I did it.”

“Don’t interrupt.” Jaskier’s mouth shut instantly, and he studied Geralt’s face, heat in his eyes. The smallest satisfied smile played at the edges of Jaskier’s full mouth. “I want to touch you. I want you to tell me what you thought of. The last time you touched yourself and thought of me.”

“By the fire. Two weeks ago.” Jaskier echoed, voice a low whisper.

“Yes.”

“You knew?”

“Yes.”

“How?” Geralt couldn’t help the pleased rumble of laughter, stroking his other hand down Jaskier’s side.

“I heard you. I didn’t listen closely, but I heard.” He kissed the inviting arch of Jaskier’s throat, the barest touch of lips to make Jaskier shake. “You like your front warm. You never turn your back to the fire and close your eyes. You watch the flames until you sleep.”

“...and think of bloodlines.” Jaskier murmured wryly.

“Hm.” Geralt shifted his leg and Jaskier moaned low, mouth falling open.

“...It’ll be over before we begin if you keep doing that.” Geralt watched Jaskier wet his lips, close his eyes. Struggle to master the sensation. 

“Then start talking.” Geralt murmured, shifting his position and settling behind Jaskier. Turning Jaskier’s body carefully so he could watch the flames. Let his hand linger on the bard’s narrow waist, fingers and thumb trailing up and down his side. Set Jaskier’s hip at the edge of the blanket. Geralt reached under the corner of the blanket and let out an amused huff at the small tin of hand salve, barely larger than two coins stacked together. Wrapped up in a single clean cloth. “...we’re going to have another talk, you and I. About when eagerness overrides good sense.”

“Get your hand on my prick, I’ll say whatever you want me to.” Jaskier responded with a choked off laugh.

“So eager.” Geralt murmured fondly, nipping at the edge of his ear with careful teeth before opening the tin. Jaskier shuddered at the touch and the sound, his breath coming in faster shallow pants. Geralt set the open tin down within his line of sight, unlacing Jaskier’s trousers slowly. He palmed the hard flesh pressing against Jaskier’s open laces and smallclothes before drawing him out. Squeezed once for the soft cry he knew he’d get in return. He scooped most of the tin’s contents into his hand, moving his fingers together. Watched Jaskier watch the movement with wide eyes.

He curled his hand into a fist around Jaskier’s length and held it still. Savored the quiet sound of protest when he didn’t move. “Well? You know the topic. _ Talk _ .” Geralt whispered the last word against the back of Jaskier’s neck and tightened his grip.


	4. Chapter 4

Even distracted and shifting, rolling his hips forward in lazy motions to slowly press into Geralt’s fist, Jaskier was a good storyteller. Geralt buried his face in the crook of Jaskier’s neck. Pressed heated kisses into the skin. Listened carefully.

“I thought you were already asleep, but part of me hoped you weren’t. Hoped you were- _gods_ , do that with your thumb aga- _there, fuck_ -” A sharp inhale, a shudder, a deep breath. “I imagined feeling your eyes on my back. Watching me. _Wanting_ me. That’s usually enough sometimes, just...thinking about you seeing, and liking what you saw.”

“You took your time about it, though. That time.” Geralt smiled against Jaskier’s skin.

“You said you didn’t listen-”

“I still heard. You’re usually quicker.”

“You usually don’t ask me questions about why I can’t _have_ you-” Jaskier let out a breathless laugh, which turned into a soft groan at a movement of Geralt’s hand. “Right, the story, _gods_.” The lightest of touches, Jaskier’s fingers brushing the back of his wrist. “Slow down, slower-” He exhaled shakily, then melted back against Geralt with a warm sigh. “Like that- I- was thinking about you getting up. Wanting to touch me. Had enough of hearing me, maybe.”

“You always tried to be quiet. I appreciated the effort.”

“Hn-”

“Sometimes you whimpered.”

“I did _not-_ ” Geralt proved his point with teeth and tongue against Jaskier's throat, savoring the small sound. “...fine.”

“Are you going to argue, or are you going to keep telling me?”

“It’s going to be a short story if you keep doing that.”

“I can st-”

“Don’t you _dare_ -” Jaskier hissed, fingers tightening on Geralt’s wrist before he laughed again. “Where was I?”

“Whimpering.”

“Ass.” Jaskier said fondly. “I thought of you settling behind me, like this. That quiet way you move.” His breath hitched softly. “...I wouldn’t be paying attention, so I wouldn’t hear your steps until you were nearly behind me. I’d notice the sound of your armor.”

“I don’t wear my armor to sleep.” Geralt laughed at that, pleased, not mocking.

“My fantasy, you’ll wear what I put you in.” Jaskier groaned softly.

“You’d hear the leather creaking then.” Geralt murmured against Jaskier’s ear. “The sound of my hands moving in my gloves. Closing my hands because I wanted to touch you so _badly_. Was I wearing gloves?”

“...well now you _definitely_ were. I’d hear you take them off. You’d lay down behind me, pull me against you. Press your hips against mine, I’d- I’d feel you. How much you wanted me, too. You’d say my name.”

Geralt moved the hand not stroking Jaskier to his hip, tugging the bard tighter against him. “ _Jaskier-_ ” he growled, soft and low, as he pressed their hips firmly together.

“ _Fuck-_ yes. You’d...move my hand away.” Something in Geralt was touched that the bard still managed to blush. “Say something like-”

“Let me.” He purred against Jaskier’s throat with a rough stroke of his hand. Enjoyed the sharp sound that followed.

“Holy- _Geralt-_ ” Jaskier moaned and shifted back against him, voice breathless and eager. “You didn’t say you were going to _act it out_ -”

“Should I not?” Geralt dipped his head to kiss Jaskier’s shoulders, putting pleasure and warmth into his voice. “You’re being so _good_ , telling me. So sweet and eager.”

“Now that-” Jaskier shuddered and let his eyes fall closed. His cock twitched in Geralt’s grip. “...is truly unfair of you.”

“I can keep telling the story.” Geralt continued quietly. “I have a good idea of how it goes.” Jaskier made a low, wordless sound in reply. “I’d get my hand on you, like this.” He bit at the edge of Jaskier’s ear, drinking in the sounds. “Let me.” He rumbled again, feeling Jaskier arch against him. “I’ll take care of this. You’ll sleep easier.”

“Yes-” Jaskier panted through parted lips. “Yes, yes-”

“What did you call it?” Geralt murmured with warmth. “A friendly hand.” He shifted from the teasing strokes to a faster, rougher rhythm. One with an end goal in mind. “Easy, I have you. There. _Good_.” There was that soft, bitten off sound again - the one that Jaskier insisted wasn’t a whimper. Pleading, needy. “Good, like that.”

“Please, please-” Jaskier barely whispered, his cheek pressed against the blankets. He moved with restless energy, hips rocking back against Geralt’s. “Do you- does this-” Jaskier closed his eyes tighter, voice growing softer. “Do you like this?” Geralt inhaled deeply, let himself fully experience every aspect of Jaskier’s need. The scent of his skin. The beating of his heart. The rapid pace of his breathing. The small sounds that changed with every motion of his body. Let himself respond to all of it. Let the rising heat fill his body, his voice.

“ _Yes_.” He growled, closing his teeth against the back of Jaskier’s neck and tightening his hand. “Once you finish, I’ll _show_ you how much.” He fumbled to open his own trousers, groaning and pressing his length firmly against the curve of Jaskier’s ass. “Easy...there.” He murmured, rubbing himself against Jaskier with a low sigh. “I’ve got you. Let go.”

Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat. He murmured a soft, broken curse, followed by his name, then spent over Geralt's fingers with a ragged gasp.


	5. Chapter 5

Jaskier’s breathing was ragged, and there was a soft huff of laughter at the top of each unsteady breath. Geralt studied his face with a small smile of his own. He ran his clean hand soothingly through Jaskier’s hair, along his arm, down his hip. Put aside his own need, coiled tight and hot low in his belly. Rubbed firm circles over Jaskier's stomach. Studied Jaskier’s face with warmth, enjoying his pleasure drunk appearance. Tousled hair, face warm with pleasure and mirth.

“Good?” He asked, nosing behind Jaskier’s ear.

“Very good.” Jaskier exhaled, wetting bitten-red lips. “Too good. If that’s what you can do to me when we’re both dressed, with only your hand and your voice...I’m going to truly make a fool of myself when you get me into bed.”

“I’m looking forward to that foolishness.” Geralt said, grabbing the clean cloth at the edge of their bedrolls and wiping the mess off his hand and Jaskier’s skin. “It’ll be a few days. With the snow. I’ll need to find the coin to pay for it.” He added.

“We’ve waited this long.” Jaskier said softly, shivering at Geralt’s careful touch. Geralt slowly tucked Jaskier’s softening length back into his pants and laced them back up, pressing another warm kiss to the back of his neck. Jaskier rolled over to face him, hands moving slowly over his shoulders. “...how long have you wanted me for?”

“Hm.” Geralt thought back to their first meeting, when Jaskier - painfully young, wide eyed, and obvious, had approached him. Then, he hadn’t. Not yet. But- “The bath, before Cintra. You made a comment-”

“Oh, fucking _gods_ , no, _Geralt-_ ”

“-about my lovely bottom.” Geralt pressed on, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. “And you looked at me the whole bath like you were trying not to lick me. I could feel your eyes on every part of me.”

“I am going to die. The gods are going to strike me down, and the earth will open up and swallow me whole, and I will die.” 

“Before you get your hand on me in turn? Bit inconsiderate of you.” Geralt teased.

“I’d like to get a bit more than that before I die.” Jaskier replied with an easy grin.

“Be my guest.” Geralt gestured between his legs with a smirk. “You stopped looking at me, after that.” Geralt said thoughtfully. “Thought you changed your mind.”

“No, just...got better at hiding it.” Jaskier said quietly. He studied Geralt’s face, cheek pillowed on his shoulder. Jaskier’s warm breath ghosted over his neck. Geralt made a low sound when string-calloused fingers lightly touched the corners of his eyes, his forehead, the edge of his mouth. Ghosted over the pale stubble dusting his jaw. “...how old are you?” He asked softly.

“Hm?”

“You said you were older than me. How much older? Ten years? Twenty?” Geralt huffed a laugh at that and propped his head up on his hand, looking down at Jaskier. He touched the places Jaskier had touched in turn, noting the fine lines beginning at the corners of the bard’s eyes, the deepening edges of his smile. Smoothed his thumb over the lines creasing his forehead, watching Jaskier’s brow ease under his touch.

“Older than that.”

“You can’t be that much older. I’m nearing forty.”

“It doesn’t matter. Not truly. Witchers don’t age the same way.” Geralt huffed a laugh. “Let’s say I’m experienced, and I know what I want. A great deal better than you did when you made that comment eleven years ago.”

“Has it been that long?”

“It has.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Mm. Everything you’ll give me willingly.”

“I meant tonight.” Geralt thought over the possibilities. 

“More kissing.” He took one of Jaskier’s hands, slowly placing kisses on each fingertip. He took the pad of Jaskier’s fingertip between his teeth, teasing it with his tongue. Enjoyed the spike in Jaskier’s languid pulse, the low gasp that followed. “Perhaps your hand, or your mouth. Not more than that. There’s nowhere to wash.”

“Ever practical.” Jaskier hummed thoughtfully near his ear, pressing a light kiss just behind it.

“You care for your clothes, and you like warm baths. You always bathe after you’re with a partner. I’m not going to ride with you moaning that your skin is sticky and your clothing is ruined.”

“I have a little more experience than that.” Jaskier said softly.

“You didn’t when I first saw you. You were so green, you smelled like grass under your ale.” Jaskier laughed warmly at that and nipped at the skin of his throat, dragging a pleased rumble from Geralt. “You weren’t a man yet.”

“I was old enough to know I wanted you.” Jaskier pressed.

“Not old enough for what I wanted from you. And I didn’t know you then.” _Didn't love you then. You didn't love me._

“You know me now.” Jaskier whispered against his lips, slanting his mouth over Geralt’s hungrily. _I love you now. You love me._

“Yes.” Geralt hissed into the kiss as Jaskier wrapped a firm hand around his aching cock. Now wet at the tip from coaxing Jaskier’s pleasure out of him. Jaskier’s fingers barely touched together around him, but the motion of his hand was practiced and delicious.

“Gods be kind.” Jaskier murmured, sounding awed. “...well, you were right. That small tin wouldn’t have worked.”

“Not if you wanted to ride. Or walk.” Geralt laughed, the steady friction of Jaskier’s fingers on him turning the sound into a low moan. “I don’t want the first time I have you- fuck, if you're planning to keep doing that, use what's left in the ti- gods, your hands are _skilled_ -”

“I don't like the way that salve tastes.” Jaskier murmured against his ear, pressing more of his body against Geralt’s side. “Tell me how you want it to be. I want to listen to that story with my lips around you.” There was a sly chuckle against his throat. “I guarantee I'll be too occupied to interrupt.”

“Fuck.” Geralt groaned with feeling, letting his eyes fall closed and his head tipping back onto the blankets. “Yes.”


	6. Chapter 6

Geralt let his eyes fall closed, let himself sink into the flood rushing over his senses.

_Jaskier’s pulse was racing again. He could feel the pulse of it in the hands running up and down his thighs. Rasp of callouses over well worn leather. Sweat, and sex, on Jaskier’s skin and his own. His own slow heartbeat, speeding up but not matching the hummingbird buzz of Jaskier’s. The rustle of fine cloth, moving and stretching over Jaskier’s shoulders. Jaskier licking his lips, wet and obscene and performative, the sound so crisp and clear he can feel Jaskier’s tongue moving over his skin before-_

Fuck

_Licking a heated stripe up the length of him, and the hot ghost of a sigh over sensitive skin._

_Like Jaskier had been dying of thirst, and Geralt’s heated skin was the first drink of cool, clean water he’d had._

Geralt very deliberately stepped back from the sensations and let them grow more distant, observing rather than inhabiting them. He bit back the choked groan in his throat and threaded his fingers into Jaskier’s soft hair. Made a tight fist to tug him back just a little.

“Don’t choke yourself on my account.” Geralt gritted out, his voice dropping into a low grumble. “Your tongue and hands are plenty.” 

“Trust me.” Jaskier said, his own voice gone heavy with desire. “I’ll only do what I enjoy.”

Geralt sat up enough to meet Jaskier’s eyes, studied his face. Traced his thumb over Jaskier’s bottom lip, the corner of his already open mouth. Groaned, “I trust you," when Jaskier took his thumb between his teeth and sucked it gently before letting go. Geralt eased the grip in Jaskier’s hair and lay back with a low, shuddering sigh.

“Tell me,” Jaskier prompted softly, pressing a trail of heated kisses over Geralt’s stomach through the fabric of his shirt. _Warm saliva, warm cloth, hands on his hips, the faintest smell of his flesh on Jaskier’s tongue_. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. When we don’t have to worry about baths or the chill outside.”

“You’re coming with me to the apothecary.” Geralt’s voice came out as a dark, forceful growl, and he had to work to call it back, soften his tone. Even with Jaskier’s appreciative shudder, his hands tight on Geralt’s thighs. Geralt steadied his breathing, deliberately slowed his heart rate.

Saw stars when Jaskier took the head of him between his lips, sweet and easy with a filthy, eager sound that made Geralt’s toes curl in his boots.

“Bee balm...and solid oil. Blend it into a bar that melts when it touches your skin. Smells faint, doesn’t have a strong taste. You’ll help me make it.” Jaskier gasped softly at that thought and the sensation of it around him went straight up Geralt’s spine. He forced his hips still, letting Jaskier set the pace. It was maddening. “I’ll test it on your arms. Rub that slickness into your skin, while they fill a bath for us. You’ll have to wait for the bath. For more than a light touch on your wrists.” Jaskier groaned low in his throat, not quite a sound of protest. Moved his tongue in practiced ease, proving the experience of so many nights of muffled sounds through thin walls.

“You’ll be patient. Because you know it’ll be- _fuck_ , Jaskier!” Geralt swore in surprise as far more of his length than he’d expected to slipped down Jaskier’s throat. His hands tightened into fists on either side of his hips, fingers digging into the blankets. He’d rip them to shreds if he wasn’t careful.

Jaskier pulled off him with a wet sound and a pleased hum, lapping lightly over the head of his cock again. “Keep going.” He mutters, voice dark and breathless. “What happens after they leave?”

“You take a bath.” Geralt couldn’t stop the pleased rumble of a laugh at Jaskier’s indignant huff. “We both will. Wash the road off us. Kiss you breathless. Touch every inch of you, make sure all we smell like is clean sweat and each other.” Then Jaskier did something wicked with his fingertips and tongue at the same time, and words vanished.

Jaskier seemed content with bitten back sounds and throaty moans, which sounded overwhelmingly loud to Geralt within the close stone walls of the cave. Along with the sweet, slick sounds of Jaskier’s tongue.

And then, cool air. So much colder than the warm, talented heat of Jaskier’s mouth.

“After the bath?” 

“After- _fuck_ . After that, I’d put that oil to good use.” He sucked in a sharp breath as Jaskier, impossibly, drew him in deeper. “Make you wait until you were more than ready. Until you were desperate for me. Begging. Then hold you there a little longer.” Geralt clenched his jaw, felt pleasure settle hot and heavy like a stone in his stomach. Knew he didn’t have much longer. “When I finally take you, the only sound you’ll make, only thing you'll feel will be sweet _relief._ ”

Geralt touched Jaskier’s cheek, squeezed his shoulder. Wet his lips and tried to think of a warning. He managed to choke out Jaskier’s name.

Jaskier, damn him, took him to the root, his nose buried against pale curls. Geralt had a moment of mixed jealousy and intense gratitude for all the partners that gave Jaskier the experience for that particular skill.

Then the pleasure peaked, wresting careful control from Geralt’s hands. He felt like he was falling from a great height into a deep pool of sensation he couldn’t shut out if he tried. Beneath all of it, Geralt could hear and feel, smell and taste Jaskier’s pleasure at his climax. That’s what finally set him arching up into Jaskier’s mouth with a low guttural cry.

He was still shuddering through the aftershocks when Jaskier was there beside him again, a warm comfortable weight against his side. He could smell himself on Jaskier’s breath, and Geralt groaned softly, wrapping his arms tightly around the other man. Jaskier’s voice was heated and eager against the shell of his ear.

“I have coin.”

“Hm?”

“I have _coin_. For the inn.” Jaskier pressed his face into the crook of Geralt’s neck. His skin was flushed, his pulse racing. ”And the oil.”

“Hm.” 

“ _Please._ ”

“Tomorrow.” Geralt said softly, feeling his eyes already growing heavy, his whole body languid with pleasure. He rolled onto his side and laced his own pants carelessly. Tugged the blankets over both of them and pressed a warm kiss to Jaskier’s mouth. “Tomorrow, I promise.” He pulled Jaskier closer and stroked his hand slowly up and down the bard’s back. "We'll do more than talk."


End file.
